


Double Spaced

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo is taken hostage when a mission goes wrong.  Written for the gwficexchange comm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Spaced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yanagi_wa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yanagi_wa).



> Prompt: 3-5 requested characters and/or pairings: 01/02 or 05/06  
> Requested elements (genres, settings, ratings etc.): M rating, adventure, space  
> Is there anything you absolutely do not want in your gift fic?: Chan, Loli, Scat, Het, Professors [unless you kill one]

It's funny how dark space looks when you're staring out an airlock with a blaster pistol poking you in the back. It's not just black, but a complete absence of light that swallows up everything and kind of makes you want to give it all up. At least for a second or two before the old survival instinct kicks in. It takes more than a seemingly hopeless situation to make Duo Maxwell lie down and die.

When Une gave me this assignment she said it was a danger level 3 which in commander speak means I could probably do it in my sleep. I'll have to remind her of that when I get back. At the very least she owes me a couple of comp days and some hazardous duty pay. I might even be able to talk her into giving Heero a couple of days too.

All I was supposed to do was cruise some of the spacer bars and find the guy who was trying to coerce Howard and the sweepers into running weapons for him. I had a description, tall and skinny wearing designer knock offs with lots of flash cash, so it should have been easy enough to do. I'd already checked out Trowa, but he had an alibi and Quatre buys his clothes so nothing but the real stuff there. Heero was less than amused when I made him verify he and Trowa had been staking out a warehouse at the time in question, but I've learned enough about political bullshit to make sure that I protect myself and my friends.

If you're wondering why Heero was working with Trowa instead of me, his loving boyfriend, it's because Preventers has this policy about not allowing partners on the job to be partners off duty. I understand the reasons for it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it or agree. I hate knowing Heero no longer has my back, but it's worse knowing I don't have his. Seriously, I know the kind of shit he does and the risks he takes. But, he's got Trowa watching him so I'm learning to be good with that.

I'd pair up with Wufei, but he's working with Zechs, at least right now. I've already told Une once they get split up I've got first dibs. She told me I couldn't claim, but she can't say I'm not thinking ahead. Quatre's off with Relena trying to save the world by building low cost housing and finding jobs for all the soldiers who are now out of work. Sometimes he comes and joins us for a mission, but these days he's mostly a suit and tie kind of guy when he's on the job. He's convinced he can do more to change the world working with WEI and supporting Relena on the political front then chasing bad guys with us. Maybe he's right about that, he's got the name and the money to make people stand up and listen.

Right about now I would give my left nut to have any or all of them backing me up, Relena included. They probably don't even know I'm missing. Like I said, this was supposed to be an easy mission. Find the guy, call for back up then walk away. No one ever knows I was part of it. Except the weapons dealer shows up with a guy that IDs me as a Preventer and the next thing I know I'm waking up in the cargo bay of an old Alliance shuttle.

Those things are fucking cold, let me tell you. I think my balls crawled right up inside trying to stay warm. There is no pretending to be unconscious when your teeth are chattering like the stupid wind up toys Sally keeps on her desk. Heero or Wufei probably could have pulled it off, but I'm a hot blooded guy and I can't hide it. The guy guarding me looked to have a foot in height and a good hundred pounds on me. Not that I haven't taken on and beat bigger guys, but the blaster pistol made me think twice. Especially since the guy's grip was rock solid and his hand never wavered. The way he was watching there was no chance of getting my lock picks out of my braid and getting loose either. It was turning out to be a swell day all around.

He didn't talk much either, even when I tried to charm him. Most of the time big guys will try to intimidate you because they're used to throwing their weight around. I've been through two wars; watched Heero set his own leg and self destruct, not much scares me anymore. I can play it when it works to my advantage though. It's one of the perks of looking younger than you are. Quatre uses the innocent face, I act like a scared kid and it works every time. Well, almost every time because this guy was not going now for it, he kept his lips together tighter than Trowa jeans.

Lucky for me I'm good at thinking on my feet. Growing up on L2 then being a terrorist will teach you how to do that. Solo used to tell the gang that the only ones who lived to grow up were the kids who would grab any chance they saw. He was right, about a lot of things. I wish I had the chance to tell him. Who knows, maybe I will, might even be sooner than I was planning on.

Shit, this is not a good time to let my mind wander. I'm not going out without a fight. If I go down it is going to be with a big fucking bang to mark the spot. There is no way in hell I'm going to let Heero spend the rest of his life wondering what happened and if I'm still alive somewhere. I saw what that did to Quatre when he shot down Trowa. It fucked him up for a long time. Still messes with him some days.

Anyway, there I was in the cargo bay freezing my ass off and feeling sick from being hit in the head. As far as I could tell there was no getting out of this situation though I sure as hell was not ready to give up yet. I figured I'd bide my time and wait. If they were going to chuck me out into space it needed to be off the regular traffic lanes; the outer space version of being taken out in the middle of a deserted forest. It wasn't like I could hitch a ride back from a passing shuttle, but leaving a body in their wake would attract attention they didn't want. Especially when the body was that of a gorgeous Preventer agent who had his life cut tragically short in the performance of his sworn duty.

At some point my jailer took pity on me and tossed an old canvas tarp that was used as a crate cover over me. It wasn't the best blanket I've ever had nor was it the worst. It did, however, help take the edge off of the cold. It also gave me a chance to curl up and work my hand into my braid without looking suspicious. About two minutes after the tarp landed the cuffs were loose, but still on my wrists and my picks were back in their hiding place. After that I pretended to be asleep and for a while I actually did doze. Howard taught me if you have the opportunity to eat, sleep or piss take it because you never know when you might get another one. When I got older he added get laid to the list, but I blocked that part out. Seriously, I love Howard like a father, but I do not want to think about him having sex. With anyone. Ever. That is more traumatic than anything I saw in either war.

According to my internal clock a couple of hours passed before my friend, the man who could have joined the Barton-Yuy conversation club was joined by another guy. The new crewman, smuggler, hired hand, whatever he was, informed both of us in a loud voice that we had arrived at our destination and it was time for me to get off. I made a crack about how my hands were tied, but if they wanted to help I would let them. All that got me was butt end of a blaster pistol upside the head. Apparently it was national give someone a concussion day and no one bothered to tell me. I hate it when I miss an important memo like that.

The new guy pulled me up and walked me out of there making sure both he and his friend had a hold of an arm. I was a good boy and didn't resist even a little bit. Keeping my head lowered I made a mental note of where we were and what was around that I might be able to use as a weapon or for cover. They had the advantage in every way possible, but like I said, I wasn't going down without a fight. Let them think I was passive and dazed by the blow to the head. I would take any scrap the universe would throw me.

We walked down a long corridor through what looked like crew's quarters then hung a right and an immediate left. I filed that away making a crude mental map just in case. It's always a better idea to be running to something then just away from whatever is chasing you. After about five minutes at a fairly leisurely stroll my buddy from the cargo bay broke off, taking one of the smaller hallways that disappeared abruptly when it made a ninety degree turn. I told him I'd miss him and made kissing noises, but he didn't even slow down. Some people have no fucking sense of humor. The guy I was left with wasn't much better though he did have a blaster pistol jammed in my ribs so I guess it all balanced out in the end.

Three more turns; left, left, right, and we were at a door with 'Airlock: Decompression Hazard' written on it in big red letters. That was when I figured my day was about to get a hell of a lot worse for a very short time. They probably figured if my body was found they could claim it was an accident. Not that anyone who knew me would actually believe that load of crap. But then it just goes to show that Sally was right about it not taking brains to be a criminal.

That is where I am now, staring out into space and trying real hard not to think about what it would feel like to breathe vacuum.

When you grow up on a colony you know that the possibility is always there, but you don't focus on it or it will make you crazy. It's kind of like living near a river and not thinking about floods. Or by a volcano and ignoring the fact it might erupt. People are really good at not seeing the shit that is right under their noses it if makes their lives a little easier to live.

The funny thing about airlocks is that not only can you see out of them, but they are highly reflective too. What I was seeing in this one was that guy with the blaster was shifting from foot to foot. I'd bet my ass he was sweating too. There is a whole battlefield worth of difference between fighting a mobile suit with a faceless pilot during a war and killing someone in cold blood. Close up, in the glass, he looked young. Most likely he hadn't signed on for this job knowing he was going to be told to shoot someone.

Fortunately, I was about to solve his dilemma for him.

Careful not telegraph my intentions I let the cuffs slide off my wrists then spun, catching him by surprise. Instead of firing like an experienced soldier he paused for a split second – the one I had gambled my life on. That was all it took. Using a move that Wufei had taught me I swept his feet out from under him and took him down to the floor. It was a simple matter to cuff him and put him to sleep. Guess he didn't get the memo about concussion day either. Working as quietly as I could I dumped the now unconscious guard where he would be blocked by the door if anyone looked into the room.

After I verified the pistol was full I set it on the floor long enough to tuck my braid down the back of my shirt. It wouldn't fool anyone who got close, but it might buy me a little time. You would be amazed what I could do with a few seconds and the element of surprise. The guy in the corner of the room sure had been.

It wouldn't be long before someone sounded the alarm so that meant I needed to put some distance between myself and where I was expected to be. Normally I would use stealth to sneak out and beg, borrow or steal a ride back to headquarters, but that wasn't really an option at this point. I figured it was time to go Heero Yuy on their asses instead.

The only way to save myself was to get into the cockpit and take over the shuttle. I estimated a crew of four then rounded up to six, in case they were cautious. They had the advantage of numbers, but I had stealth, smarts and a few other odd tricks up my sleeve. It wasn't quite fair, but I wasn't going to add anything more to my handicap to even things out.

The corridor was empty when I slipped out the door and I said a quick thank you to Sister Helen for watching out for me. I'm still not sure what I believe when it comes to whole God question, but I've never doubted that she keeps a look out over my shoulder and has kept me from getting my fool self blown to bits more than once. I added a quick request for her to take care of Heero before I started working my down the hall.

I was no more than a hundred yards away from the airlock when the ship jolted then roiled heavily before recovering. Either the pilot was a complete idiot and we had hit something or the shuttle was under fire. As long as the damn thing stayed in one piece that was good news for me. Being in a fire fight would keep everyone too busy to worry about one poor little Preventer agent who might or might not have gone swimming in space without a flight suit.

Without knowing what exactly was up though I wasn't sure whether anything changed or not. My best plan of action was to find out what had happened and to decide from that. The ship shuddered again and I was thrown against the wall taking a hit that made the blows to my head feel like a love tap. Fortunately, I had landed on my left side which meant I still had my dominate hand for shooting. It also meant that my poor abused brain immediately went to this joke I'd once overheard about a guy who gets his left side cut off, but is okay because he's all right now.

Suppressing an urge to laugh, I made a mental note to tell Heero when I saw him next. He wouldn't think it was funny, but the look on his face would be priceless. Half the time I crack stupid jokes just because of how he reacts. Granted he's loosened up a lot, even cracks a smile on a regular basis, but when it comes to humor he's still got a long way to go. Luckily for him I'm a very patient man.

I resumed making my way down the hallway keeping close to the walls and what little cover they provided. I also wanted to be able to brace myself if we took another volley. There was no doubt we were under fire. Once you've been in a ship or a suit that has taken damage you never forget it. I've been in enough fire fights to recognize the feeling.

Five minutes later I was at the first crossroads pondering my options. We'd turned right to enter this hallway so my inclination was to go the opposite direction. The cargo bay was usually as far from the cockpit as possible, but on the other hand I knew turning the way we had come would lead me back to one of the main corridors running through the ship. The sound of footsteps approaching at a quick pace made my decision for me. I turned and bolted, heading away from what little I knew of the lay out of the shuttle.

On the downside I now had no idea where I was going or what lay ahead. However, it was a worthwhile trade off for avoiding detection and using up what little ammunition I had before it was absolutely necessary. Stealth and hiding were my best techniques and I would use them until I was left with no other alternative.

The ship took another hit, this time to the nose I would guess based on the way she spun as well as rolled under the assault. So far the areas taking damage had been pretty widely spaced, more warning shots than anything, but I had a feeling that was going to change soon. There was a ragged burst of acceleration and I swore as my already injured left side bounced off the wall once again. When I finally got my hands on the pilot of this piece of crap I was going to fuck him up for all the damage he had inflicted.

I picked up my pace, moving into a trot that would eat up distance and still allow me to keep my footsteps quiet. Fortunately, I was more prepared when the next hit came and I barely managed to stay on my feet despite the way the ship buckled and rolled. I'd have to remember to thank Howard and The Sweepers for that. Once you get your sea legs they stay with you even if the kind of ship you are on changes.

I was seriously tired of this bullshit by now. It was time to do some ass kicking Duo Maxwell style.

Of course the universe decided that I would eat those words.

I'd barely taken three steps when two of the bastards stepped out of a side corridor and spotted me. I shot the first one before he had a chance to raise his weapon, but the second was quicker and he ducked back into the hallway using the wall as a shield. He popped off a few shots in my direction, but didn't come close to hitting me. Not wanting to waste any of my charge if I didn't have to I held fire waiting for a good shot. Keeping my back against the wall I worked my way towards the corner he was hiding behind until I close enough to hear him breathing.

After a long slow count to ten I dropped into a crouch before launching myself into the other walkway. He was waiting for me and fired off another couple of shots, but both went over my head as he was aiming much higher. From my position I was able to push off and wrap my arms around his legs, taking him down to the ground. His head hit the floor with an audible thud and the shock gave me the time to disarm him. Giving him one of my best 'Shimigami says hi' grins I swatted him with the butt of my pistol and put him to sleep. Poor guy didn't get the memo either.

The hallway I was following made an abrupt turn to the left then dead ended in front of the launch bay for the escape pods. On a sailing ship they would have been life boats, though I guess in the end they were really the same thing. They usually have crap engines and good radios which was not the best situation, but I could work with it. I'd managed with less under worse circumstances and come out breathing.

All around me I could hear the ship was starting to make shuddering noises between hits. If there is one thing I know it's the sound of metal starting to give way under strain. There are things that stay with you and haunt your dreams once you've piloted a mobile suit. Metal suffering from fatigue is one of them. The smell of burning electronics and lubricant is another. The worse though is the way your own screams echo back at you when you're locked in the cockpit. The sound never completely leaves your head.

Changing plans on the fly is one of my specialties and I decided this was one of the times to use it. I cycled through into the launch bay and discovered a distinct shortage of escape pods. Swearing loudly I pulled the first cabinet open, praying that there was at least a couple of flight suits still left. In the last one I finally got lucky. There was only one and while the basic design was old school Alliance it had been upgraded with some technology that was definitely closer to cutting edge. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have touched it without doing a complete system check from top to bottom, but the ship's alarms were now screaming in my ears and the whole thing was shaking like Quatre does when the temperature drops below eighty degrees.

I unlaced my boots and kicked them off adding the cost of a replacement pair to my mental expense list. I'd just gotten them broken in where they fit my feet too. Une and Preventers better appreciate the sacrifices I made in the name of keeping the peace. The suit was a bit bigger then I would normally wear so I didn't have to strip down to my underwear. Losing my boots would be bad enough, having to let go of my favorite pair of broken in jeans would make me cranky to the point where only blowing things up would make me feel better. The suit held once I pressurized it and I said another quick thank you to Sister Helen before hitting the switch to cycle the bay and open the doors.

Through an airlock space looks more than dark, but when you are looking out an open bay door it is limitless. The tiny dots of light seem to be a lifetime away. Somewhere behind me an explosion shook the ship and I moved forward with it letting the force of the blast propel me out of the open door. Coming out at an angle I kicked off the ship as I passed using the change in direction to send me out away from what was going to soon be a flaming piece of debris.

Newton's first law states that a body in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. The second law talks about acceleration and force that is directly proportional to the amount of force and the direction of the force. Translation; when you are in a flight suit drifting in space and the ship you were on explodes it gives you a hell of a wave to ride especially when it is followed by a second more powerful explosion. It helps a lot if you know where you are and where you are going so you can channel that energy. Still, even just going with where the blast takes you is better than being on a salvage excursion in the making.

Like the old joke says I have no idea where I 'm going, but I'm making damn good time.

The first order of business was to check out the communications equipment. It appeared to be operational if the little green light was any indication. I coded in one of Preventers secure channels and recorded a message then set it up to transmit every ten minutes. On an open channel I did the same only using a general distress call that did not identify me as a Preventer. Once those were both up and running I took a long deep breath and assessed my situation. It wasn't good. Not even by my standards. My chances of being picked up were somewhere between slim and none. To be picked up before my oxygen ran out or I died of dehydration? Even lower. I didn't bother to do the math, but I'm betting there was a decimal point with a lot of zeros on the wrong damn side of it.

At that point the only thing I could do was wait. Fuck, man, I hate waiting, especially if I don't know if what I'm waiting for is even going to happen. I've always been the proactive, take things in my own hands kind of guy. It's something that all of us Gundam pilots had in common. Passive is just not in our nature.

That's why I wasn't there when the Maxwell Church was destroyed. It's why I've survived a lot of shit. This floating and waiting was going to make me crazy before it killed me. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift along with my body. The first thing that came to mind was Heero. What would happen to him if I wasn't there to finish those humor lessons? Who would drag him away from work and make sure he relaxed? Who would make sure that he had some cake along with his rice and vegetables? Real cake with thick butter cream frosting not that low calorie crap that has fruit or vegetables in it.

Trowa is a good guy, but let's face it; he isn't exactly a barrel of laughs. Wufei would expect Heero to bear up with stoic strength. Quatre, well, he would understand and be compassionate because that's who he is. Come to think of it, they all need someone to lighten them up when they get so fucking intense. That's my job and I was not anywhere near ready to give it up.

That train of thought did nothing, but depressed the fuck out of me so I purposefully made myself think about something else. My mind refused to leave Heero so I switched gears and made myself focus on the time we had been together. Heero's not a demonstrative man. His idea of showing how he feels is more likely to be cleaning my gun to make sure it is in good working condition then roses and candy, but that works for me. I'm not much for sap myself. One of the things we have gotten into the habit of doing though is to say 'I love you' every time we go our own ways even if it is just a trip to the grocery store. We're both way too aware of how short life can be.

A bell rang in the back of my head and my eyes snapped open. Hurriedly, I checked the settings on the radio again and found it did indeed have the ability to record internal messages. I flicked on the recorder and cleared my throat. For once I had no idea what the fuck to say. I cleared my throat again and closed my eyes picturing him there with me and just started talking.

"Shit Heero, I'm sorry. This sure as hell wasn't how I planned to go out. There are so many things I wanted to do first. Promise me you'll still go to the new amusement park they are building outside of Geneva. Take Quatre with you. He needs to get out of his fucking office once in a while. Don't you dare refuse to take the puppy from Melissa in accounting. I had to bribe her to get one of them and I've already paid her off. Trowa can help you with what you need to know about taking care of it. I love you, man. I didn't think I could ever love anyone like I do you. I know you hate mushy shit, but it's true. You always tell me I taught you how to love. You taught me to not be afraid to. Think about me some times, okay? But go on with your life and be happy. Have fun, laugh and do all the things I won't get a chance to."

I flipped off the recorder and closed my eyes again letting the mix of pain and joy I felt fill me the way the water seeps up through the sand to claim a footprint on the beach. It had taken us a while to figure out how we felt about each other; time I had never begrudged before this moment. Heero was the one who had the balls to make the first move, but he's always been the direct type. No romance, just an invitation to dinner followed by a simple declaration of intention. One of the great things about Heero is you always know where you stand with him. He's honest to a fault and after all the ways that people will fuck you around it is refreshing to go home and not have figure out what game your lover is playing.

It's funny how the human mind works. I would have thought there was no way in hell I could sleep and yet here it is six hours after the last time I checked. Shit I could go for a drink right now. Water preferably, though I wouldn't turn down a beer either. Hunger I could deal with. I spent a good part of my life hungry so it is not hard to block out. Thirst isn't so easy to push into the back of your mind. It will kill you long before you starve to death, that's something else I learned from Solo. On the other hand my oxygen would probably run out before that happened. Most suits were good for between fifteen and twenty hours. The gauge had read full when I climbed into it and it was now a little over three fourths. There it was, the duration of my life broken down into small black dashes set against a glaring white background.

During the war I was ready to die. Not suicidal, just resigned to my fate and prepared to make whatever sacrifices were necessary to protect the colonies. These days I was still ready to do whatever I needed to make this peace last, but I was no longer willing to accept my death without putting up a hell of a fight. The problem was you can't really shoot, blow up or kick space in the head. If I was lost in the woods I could pick a direction and walk, if I was drowning I could swim for the surface, but there was nothing I hadn't already done that I could do at this point. It almost made me jealous of Trowa and the fact that he had spent most of the time he was floating in space unconscious.

Just thinking that makes me feel like shit, but it doesn't change anything. How can I be possibly be bored when I'm looking death in the face? Bored and frustrated. Maybe I've already died and I'm in hell. At least the last time I was in this kind of situation I had Wufei to talk to. He mostly just floated there, meditating, but I knew I wasn't alone and it made a difference. No blueprints of my buddy to check out either. Too bad, my brain could really use something to do besides rattle around in my skull as I slowly go insane.

The gauge is at halfway now and it's been fifteen hours. Unless it is staggered to go slower on the top half I've got about ten hours more than I originally thought; ten more fucking hours of floating and waiting to die. Part of me wants to just take my helmet off and be done with it, but the stronger part says no. Father Maxwell once told me where there is life there is hope. Well, I'm alive though my hope is fading fast. I keep thinking that one of those dots is getting brighter, but know it's my imagination and some kind of delusion or optical illusion. I'm sure Heero would know what it is called. I probably should, but I can't think of anything, beyond what it is going to be like to die.

I wonder if anyone is looking for me yet. I wonder if they'll ever find me. I wonder how long it will take before they add my picture to the wall of fallen agents. I wonder what they're serving for lunch in the Preventer's cafeteria. I hope it's macaroni and cheese. That shit sucks ass so I wouldn't mind missing it. Who am I kidding? I could eat a whole pan of it if I had it right now. Chase it down with a gallon of the dishwater they claim is coffee. I wish I could see Heero again. Just one more time. Fuck, I'm only twenty two. Is that too much to ask for? One more moment with the man I love to tell him good- bye.

Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! I'd give all of my oxygen for something to punch right now. Something, anything, I don't care what. I'm not gonna cry damn it. My life isn't worth crying over. Why is it that closing your eyes doesn't stop tears? It should dam them up and keep them from being able to fall, but it doesn't. You know the worst part? When you cry lying on your back the tears roll down into your ears and pool there. Fuck I hate that. I can't even wipe them away like this.

I swear that dot really is getting bigger, goes to show just goes to show how your brain can play tricks on you. Maybe if I close my eyes I won't think about it. Out of sight out of mind and all that philosophical shit that I'm not sure I believe. I can't look, can't let myself hope. Dying with hope would be worse than living without it.

In the movies there is always this big production to build up the suspense and make the audience wonder if the hero will survive. Real life though, it's not like that. Sometimes the cavalry rides in before you need them and other times they don't show up at all. Then there are moments, like now, when it materializes out of a field of stars in the shape of a sweeper ship that is more beautiful than anything I've ever seen before or since.

There was no gasping for air as I was pulled on board. No tearful almost deathbed confessions. First thing I did when I saw the ship and knew I wasn't imagining it was erase that fucking message I'd recorded. There was no way in hell I was going to take a chance that Heero might hear it. No one should have to go through that. Instead, I took him in my arms and told him how I loved him before taking him to bed.


End file.
